The Request
by theimpossiblegrrl
Summary: Despite her bravery, the war has left Hermione's nights riddled with nightmares. Worried for her sanity, Severus finally relents to her request to go back into her memories, in hopes of freeing her from her emotional bondage. Submission to the 2016 SSHG Promptest on LJ. Oneshot, complete.


Hermione woke, as she did more nights than she remembered or cared to admit, shivering and screaming in pain.

"Shhhhhh," Severus whispered. Already awake when the moans first started, he wrapped his arms around her even more firmly. "It's over. You're safe."

"No!" She grabbed her chest, trying to find wounds that had been healed for almost two decades. "It hurts so much ... there's blood everywhere. Can't you see? So much blood ..."

"Wake up," he said. "It's only a dream—all over. Only a dream, my girl."

"Not a dream... Not a dream... Dreams don't hurt." She repeated the words over and over, like a Victrola needle skipping over a crack in a broken record.

"Your scar?"

Sniffing harshly, she shook her head just before bursting into tears. "Can't you see? It's not a scar. There's blood all over my chest! I can smell it!"

With a harsh sigh, Severus rolled over, taking her with him. His ebony wand was on the bedside table, resting next to hers—dark and light side by side. Grabbing it, he immediately felt the tingle in his fingers that had been there since the first time he touched it at Olivander's, when he was eleven years old.

"Rennervate," he said hoarsely, holding the wand close to her temple.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, almost like a princess in a fairy tale who was waking from a witch's spell. The unfocused tawny eyes looked dazed for a moment until her true surroundings finally registered. When she turned her head, meeting his concerned gaze, her lips began to tremble. "Nightmare."

He nodded, cupping her cheek in his hand. "The worst one you've had in years."

"Did I wake the children this time?"

"No," Severus assured her. "They're sleeping in the dorms now, remember?"

She nodded vaguely, trying to bring her mind fully into the present. "I remember now. But the dream was so real tonight. If you weren't with me, I'd probably have grabbed my wand and started casting defensive spells."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not going anywhere, isn't it?" he teased.

"A very good thing," she murmured.

"Do you want me to get you some warm milk or a cup of tea?"

She shook her head. "No, not right now. But I do want you to reconsider my request, especially with the boys being in school."

"No," he said firmly.

"Please?" Hermione licked her lips, not wanting to plead with him, but —

"We've been through the reasons why. I'm not a Healer. It may hurt you even more than you are already, and I can't take responsibility for that."

"I've had a safe word for years, Severus," she reminded him. "I won't let you go too far."

"If I drag you back into your memories, you may not even remember what a safe word is." Even though his voice was hard and harsh, his eyes were soft.

"You know when to stop—have done so when I've been so deep into pleasure that I can't speak. You could do it again. If you wanted."

"Hermione, don't," he said. Every muscle in his body tensed. "It's not that I don't want to, it's that I'm—"

"Afraid to," she finished.

Severus sighed and nodded. "It's not an easy thing to admit, but yes. I'm afraid."

She ran her fingertips over the lines around his eyes. During their years together, they had changed, now caused from laughter and love instead of strain. But tonight, she could see some of the old frown lines return as he tried to control his thoughts.

"I'm afraid, too," Hermione admitted. "What do I have to lose?"

"Your sanity?"

"The dreams could end up doing that before you could. It's getting harder and harder to wake me, isn't it?"

Reluctantly, he nodded and closed his eyes.

"How often do you have to use magic to pull me out?"

"Almost every time now," he said, so low it barely created an audible sound.

"Severus," she said, now pleading and not giving a damn how childish her voice sounded.

"I can't lose you."

"You won't."

Pulling her tighter against him until it felt like he was trying to fuse their flesh together, he kissed her until she was gasping for air. She loved him even more in those moments, when his possessiveness made her feel as though she was the only woman in the world. It was something she never imagined would appeal to her. Until the moment their eyes caught at a Ministry gala just after the war, she'd never really thought of herself as a woman who wanted to feel so overpowered by a man. But it was _this_ man who changed her mind, who she gladly let overwhelm her with his consuming strength and desire.

Severus could do this. She knew he could. Despite feeling dizzy and breathless, she clung to his shoulders and deepened the kiss even more, suckling on his tongue until she felt him harden against her softness.

"Promise?" he asked, breaking the kiss.

"I promise."

The wax dribbled down Hermione's chest, creating a molten path of delicate pain along her scar. Instinctively she tensed, her mind transported right back to the night she had been cursed. The memory of the searing, scorching pain that had coursed through her body made her freeze. Any pretense of arousal was wiped away.

"What are you feeling, little one?" Severus asked, his voice very low.

She could feel his lips close to her ear, but she was unable to respond. She was completely helpless against the memories that had flared.

"Hermione... Pet... Come back. Find one word to express what you are feeling, and say it. Even if the word is _red_."

Letting go of her breath as he removed the hardened wax, Hermione spoke the first word that came to her mind. "Loss."

"Of what? One word at a time, if that is all you can manage."

She swallowed. "Innocence."

Severus actually growled. It was a terrifying sound—even more terrifying than what she imagined it would have been like to have heard him speak the Killing Curse the night that Professor Dumbledore died. "You were too young to have gone off like that. There are times I wish I could have shackled the lot of you in the Dungeons until the truth was known."

"Don't!" The word caught in her throat, instead of a plea it came out like a choked sob.

He purred in her ear, his voice sweet even though his words were dangerous. "In case you have forgotten, you are not permitted to speak unless spoken to."

Hermione hadn't forgotten. The reaction had been so automatic that in that earlier moment she hadn't remembered where she was, just as he'd feared. In her mind, she had been home with her parents after her fifth year. They had told her the same things, her mum doing so while tears dripped onto her cheeks.

"Where were you?" Severus asked.

"With my parents."

"And where are you, really?"

She smiled when she looked at him, relieved that his eyes were warm and full of concern. "I'm with _you_ , sir."

"Remember that," he said.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

He nodded, and his hands, coated in a light oil scented with sandalwood, began massaging her chest. Paying extra attention to her scar, he hummed softly as he worked—a tune she recognized from the Muggle clubs they frequented on special occasions.

"Permission to speak?" she gasped. His fingers had wandered, rubbing the oil into her breasts, even though they weren't the centre of attention tonight.

"You may," he murmured.

"I still ... feel. I'm not completely numb, if that's what you are thinking."

"I know," he replied, sighing as he grazed her nipples, tweaking them with his slick fingers. "But you've admitted to me several times that you can't bear to look at yourself in the mirror unless you have a Glamour concealing your scar. I realize I don't wear my own with pride," he continued, pointing to the thick, ropey scars on the side of his neck, "but you have nothing to be ashamed of, Little One. You should have pride in the courage you displayed at such a young age, when others would have run."

Tears filled her eyes, blurring her view of his face. She wiped them away, sniffling as she tried to turn her head so that she could look away.

"Hermione." His voice was the one he used when issuing a command, hard control over the softness she knew him capable of.

"Say the words: _I was brave_."

Hermione shook her head. "I wasn't brave, sir. I was foolish."

He slapped her thigh, but it was not a teasing, arousing sting. It hurt, as a punishment would. "I was brave."

"We led Sirius to his death," she said, admitting the words that she had tried to convince Harry weren't true.

Another hard, painful slap to her leg. "It will be the paddle, my stubborn little submissive, if you do not answer correctly. Sirius was... He had his own issues," Severus muttered. "You bear no responsibility for his actions. _You_ were brave. Say it."

Hermione lips quirked when she said, " _You_ were brave." She bit her lip, grunting when he slapped her again.

"Another man with his own issues. Say it," he commanded, slapping her again when she hesitated.

"I was brave," she whispered, hoping it would satisfy him.

It didn't. The admission only earned her another hard blow to her inner thigh.

"What? I'm so sorry, in my old age I must be going deaf, or else you deliberately defied me. Say it."

"I was brave," Hermione said, a little louder this time, but still not loud enough to please him. And she so wanted to please him, except that it was so much easier to do so when it was their regular games in bed. Even though she had asked for this—for him to delve into her fears and draw her out even further—she hadn't expected this level of pain to arise from it.

When he slapped her again, his hand landed on the sensitive flesh on her lower belly. "You try my patience, Hermione. You can either say the words, or use your safe word. It's your choice."

Her word materialized in her mind, she could almost see it written behind her eyelids each time she blinked.

" _Lion... Lion... Lion..._ "

It was such an easy word to say—no hardness to it at all. One word, one syllable, and it would all be over, and they could spend the rest of the night making love while she was tied to the iron headboard, moaning wordlessly as he fucked her. Her tongue rose to the top of her mouth, trying already to form the first letter of the word.

But then... Would the nightmares ever end? Or would they finally drive her mad?

Severus traced her scar with the tip of his finger. His eyes were heavy with emotion. There was no Occlumency to hide his thoughts, not in this room.

"I could have lost you that night. As much as I disliked you then, I would have lost the best years of my life."

The heat of the extinguished candle was close to her chest, but Hermione barely noticed it. Aware only of Severus's voice, she closed her eyes and listened.

"Fuck Dolohov," he snarled, making her wince. "Fuck me for ever teaching him that spell. Fuck Umbridge for being a cunt. Fuck Kreacher for lying, and fuck Sirius for being a bastard to his servant. However, you shouldn't be made to suffer from the mistakes of those who should have been keeping you from leaving the school that night. You did what you thought you must, because _you were brave_."

The wax fell on her chest again, transporting her mind back to that night. Pain seared through her chest, making her fight against the magical bindings that held her captive. She felt lost, completely helpless.

Yet she remembered still fighting, grabbing her wand to fend off yet more attacks and to protect her friends. Her thoughts then had not been focused on fear or guilt, but on that fiercely protective part of her that always came out when someone was in trouble.

"Don't you see? I wasn't there, Hermione, at the end. Regardless, Dumbledore let me see his memories in the Pensieve. I _saw_ you, my brilliant girl. How valiantly you fought, even while you were bleeding on the floor. _You were brave_."

His voice was a song, a litany, a chant that drew her back to the present. Suddenly— _finally_ —Hermione was an adult, looking back on the actions of her childhood, with years of perspective to reflect on her actions. Instead of speaking her safe word, her tongue loosened from the top of her mouth. She opened her eyes and looked at her husband, her Dominant, her lover. Her world.

The wax fell from her chest as she sat up, bonds suddenly released. Her voice wasn't as strong as his, but it was full of belief. " _I was brave_."

His arms were around her, thin, strong arms that held her close. Rocking her slowly as he drew the quilt around them both, he kissed her forehead before resting his cheek against it. "My stubborn little chit, of course you were."

She nodded, not caring that she had begun to cry. "Do you think the nightmares will go away now?"

"I don't know," Severus said. He wiped her tears away, tending to her as he did their children when they were upset. "I suppose that remains to be seen. How do you feel?"

"Exhausted." She took the piece of chocolate he offered to her, nibbling it and enjoying the way it warmed her from the inside out. "But... free. Like a weight has been lifted from me."

"It has been. You've carried so much guilt that shouldn't have been on your shoulders."

Hermione felt herself begin to drift, fully relaxed and warm from his body and from the chocolate. She tried to keep herself awake and continue listening to the rich voice that soothed her like healing balm, but the pull was too great.

Always reading her body, and perhaps her mind, he eased her until they were lying down. "Sleep, Hermione."

She never stopped dreaming about the war, or of the earlier battles she fought at the side of her best friends. Now, though, when she woke, it was either by the warm sun against her cheek, an Alarm Charm, or Severus's wandering hands.

Come morning, their wands remained side by side, as undisturbed by the night as their owners were in the bed close by.


End file.
